


When the Moment Is at Hand

by Viridian5



Category: Doctor Who, due South
Genre: Canadian Shack, Crack Fic, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-12-31
Updated: 2001-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-02 07:24:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two sets of travelers exchange a hand in a Canadian shack. Things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Moment Is at Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: for _due South_, it's "Call of the Wild." For _Doctor Who_, it's "Resurrection of the Daleks," with vague spoilers for other episodes.
> 
> This ended up being too long to fit the parameters of [101 Ways To End Up In A Canadian Shack: A series of short-short stories](http://www.trickster.org/speranza/ShackedUp.html), a multi-fandom e-zine.

"You might want to put a coat on, Turlough," the Doctor said. "It'll be a bit brisk outside."

Which could mean anything, really. Turlough donned an anorak and followed the Doctor out of the TARDIS into a snowstorm. "A bit brisk? It's freezing out here!"

"Below freezing actually." The Doctor beamed and put up the hood of his coat. "Come along."

Turlough often wondered if the various civilizations the Doctor had saved from armed conflicts wouldn't have reached the munitions stage if not for him talking to them and inspiring thoughts of homicide.

It took only moments to reach the tiny shack that seemed to be their destination, but Turlough already had snow melting under the soles of his feet inside his shoes. Inside the shack, two men--at least Turlough assumed them to be men under the thick layers and snow gear and facial hair--stood up to greet them. The dark-haired one asked, "Excuse me, but are you emissaries from the Doctor?"

"I am the Doctor, and this is my companion, Turlough."

"Fraser, you told me the Doctor was a little guy with black hair," the blondish stranger said with a really grating accent. Not as grating an accent as Tegan had, but it still caught at Turlough's ear.

"I was, then," the Doctor answered.

"Dreadfully sorry," Fraser said.

"Oh, it's not your fault."

Looking at Turlough, Fraser said, "I'm Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. This is my partner, Detective Ray Kowalski."

Canadian? "Earth again," Turlough muttered to the Doctor. It had ceased to be a proper question several return visits to Earth ago.

"Is anyone interested in tea?" the Doctor asked as he took a large carafe out of a basket Turlough hadn't realized he'd been carrying.

"I've been out here for so long that tea sounds really good," Kowalski said. "You got any sugar?"

The Doctor and Fraser took one end of the small table to slowly, politely, excruciatingly work their way toward their actual business--"How are Jamie and Zoe?" "Right this moment?" "Yes, please." "Oh, he's been dead for about two hundred years, while she hasn't been born yet." "...I see."--while Ray and Turlough drank to warm themselves at the other end. It worked well enough that they all started to unfasten their cold weather gear and become more comfortable.

Kowalski shook his head. "Dr. Smith big on the polite rigmarole?"

"Normally no," Turlough answered. "Usually he introduces us and then proceeds to overthrow whatever social, traditional, and/or governmental order the locals have."

"Been there." Kowalski smiled and shook his head again. "Fraser's deferring to him like he's a big shot."

"He is the president of Gallifrey."

"If Fraser doesn't already know that, let's not mention that any louder, okay?"

"Understandable."

"It's good to see Fraser being the one put off-balance by a taste of the weird." Yet he had a fond look on his face.

"I've yet to see that happen with the Doctor. I yearn for that day, Kowalski."

"Eh. Call me 'Ray.' You have a name other than 'Turlough'?"

Oh, why not? "'Vislor,' actually."

"What kind of name is that?"

"Alien." Some of the more willfully stupid students at the Brendon School had decided it was Pakistani. Because that was the obvious conclusion you came to when faced with a pallid, ginger-haired, blue-eyed student. Imbeciles. As if they hadn't found enough excuses to discriminate against him already.

Of all the things he missed about his life pre-exile, the undisputed right to kill his enemies topped the list.

"Alien." Ray laughed, though it sounded more like a slightly demented cackle. Turlough found it strangely endearing. "Once upon a time that would have bothered me more. It's just that you and Dr. Smith sound so British."

If he ever received a pardon to return to Trion, he'd no doubt speak his native tongue with that accent as a speech impediment for the rest of his life. "I know."

"He's not really British either."

"I'm afraid not. It's amazing how many Earth people think 'we're British' is excuse enough for any strangeness."

"'He's Canadian' works about as well." Ray took off his gloves, exposing surprisingly shapely hands. Turlough sternly told himself that he wasn't interested in an unkempt and literally unwashed human. Damn Tegan for leaving as she had anyway. Not that he cared. Ray continued, "You know, it should bother me that instead of meeting with two no-longer-teenagers and a black-haired little guy in a yeti coat to hand over the hand of Franklin, we're meeting with one teenager in a school uniform and a tall blond guy with a stalk of celery pinned to his lapel. But it just doesn't anymore."

Ray was looking at him strangely. Oh. The damned school uniform got him into so many difficulties, but he couldn't quite give it up. In the absence of his old military uniform, he made do. "The Doctor and I aren't like that." Though he was becoming desperate enough to try it. "And I'm older than I look."

Ray smirked. "Somehow, everybody I've ever busted who was wearing that kind of get-up said pretty much that same thing."

"What was that about a hand of Franklin?"

"The reaching-out hand. We actually find the damned thing, and Fraser looks up and says that he just remembered that at 18 he'd promised it to some guy if he ever found it. From the slightly glazed look in his eye when he talked about this Jaime guy, I thought it might be to Jaime--Fraser's life is just weird enough for that--but, no, it's to Dr. Smith. 'Whenever it happens, come to this shack in the middle of Bumfuck and, heh, hand it over.' Make any sense to you?"

"This is an actual human hand you're speaking of?"

"Yeah. Perfectly preserved by the cold."

It sounded perfectly disgusting. "I have no idea. The Doctor doesn't tell me anything."

"I know how that can be." Ray's accent grated, but he really had a lovely voice, worn soft, especially when he was being kind.

Oh for-- Did he really miss arguing with Tegan that much?

Fortunately, the Doctor and Fraser seemed to be finished, as the Doctor put a bulky, wrapped item into his basket, then stood and walked over. The Doctor regarded Ray searchingly....

Fraser came between them. "Thank you for the tea and conversation, Dr. Smith," he said, sounding polite but adamant.

Did Ray notice the unspoken power struggle going on? From the look on his face as he spoke, it seemed that he might. "Yeah, it's just been me, Fraser, and the dogs for a long time, so it was great talking with you guys. Hey, Fraser, could I have a moment alone with the Doctor?"

Fraser looked downcast but still somewhat resolute. "Of course, Ray." He walked to the other end of the small cabin and gave every indication of not listening. Turlough didn't understand honorable people at all.

Ray pulled the Doctor over to the opposite end, and Turlough followed. "Look, I listened between the lines of what Fraser said when he talked about you, and it sounds like sometimes you take people away and you all do good deeds, kind of Foreign Legion-like."

"Yes," the Doctor answered. "One of my past selves offered Benton the chance."

"Wow." Ray fidgeted. "Okay. I went on this quest for the hand because I wasn't ready to say what had to be said and needed an excuse to stick around. I figured we'd never find it, right? Then we _did_ find it, and I realized that I better say something, but he brought you up and that gave me more time. I didn't think you'd actually be here, but here you are." Ray sighed. "I have something I have to say to Fraser. If it doesn't go well, I might want to go away with you."

"That would be splendid." The Doctor had been stricken by Tegan's departure as well. She'd been with him for some time, and the TARDIS was silent without her.

"Good. So, could you go wherever and give me about an hour? If I don't show up in an hour, it worked out and you couldn't get me away from here with a forklift, so take off without me."

"Thank you. You merely have to follow our footprints in the snow to the big, blue police box standing a few meters away."

"I didn't see a blue police box before. Oh. Never mind."

Turlough noticed the relief on Fraser's face as they separated from Ray. Somehow Turlough doubted that Ray would be showing up in an hour.

In the TARDIS 45 minutes later, Turlough told the Doctor as much as he programmed coordinates in. "We might as well leave."

"Why?" the Doctor asked as he smacked Turlough's hand away and redid them.

"Ray's not coming. He just told Fraser that he loved him, Fraser just told him the same back, and they're now consummating their relationship. It's obvious."

"Turlough!" Was the Doctor more upset about Turlough's carnal knowledge or the fact that he hadn't seen the obvious?

Turlough addressed the first. "You found me at a British boys school. You're Anglophile enough to know what that means."

Awareness dawned in that blond head. "I don't like to make assumptions."

"Since when?"

"You're impertinent."

Turlough raised an eyebrow and smiled darkly. "Punish me."

An hour later, Ray still hadn't shown up, but Turlough doubted that the Doctor cared as much anymore.

 

### End


End file.
